


All Trades

by annie_mae (teenagewristband)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Episode 1x06, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagewristband/pseuds/annie_mae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John shares some information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Trades

Multitasking, splitting your focus effectively are skills that not everyone can master. John Diggle has done so. It's second nature and part of his job. So he simultaneously reconciles that as good as he knows he is, Oliver Queen is better. Much better. As John deflects offensive baton blows and the other man voices instruction, adjustments coated with just the right amount of drill sergeant style condescension, he absorbs the relevant corrections and watches. His understanding of what Queen is working with gets more precise everyday.

The appreciation isn't just about the surface, the twelve pack, the biceps or the pelvic cut. He appreciates the work of the muscles beneath Oliver's skin. How they move together to produce this unexpectedly fierce fighter currently outstriking him. How they aren't just for display when he takes his shirt off. John lets himself look because it's an essential part of the training. Watch the flex and tightening to get any advantage, any giveaway about the coming blows. He also looks because he wants to. His kind of appreciation isn't always welcome so he's learned to pick his moments. 

He's of the impression that Oliver doesn't care. Queen wouldn't have cared before being marooned because Oliver Queen was the kind of arrogant that expected a certain kind of attention from women and men. Queen doesn't care now because of his singular focus. It's no longer arrogance, but a coldness of purpose. A battle readiness. John lifts his baton, blocks just in time. He wonders if he had held out a little longer, would Oliver have put something else on the table. The singularity in atoning for his father's sins removes most boundaries for Queen so John thinks a honey trap wouldn't necessarily have out of the question. Perhaps Queen just hadn't realized that was an option. Or, more accurately Oliver had simply, correctly assessed the optimal way to reach John. 

John's arms feel like lead. But he feels good, better than he has in quite awhile. Oliver leans up against his desk, facing John, barely breathing hard. But still coiled. Bastard. Now, without the distraction of trying to prevent Queen from giving him a concussion, John comes to a decision. Cutting the short distance between them, he stops just within arm's length of Oliver Queen. Reaching out, he traces his forefinger along the edge of Oliver's collar bone, slightly sweat damp. The other man drops his head, closes his eyes, but doesn't say a word. John continues slow, down Oliver's neck, over the left nipple which tightens under the attention. John notes the slight change in the other man's breathing. Switches and brushes the pad of his thumb over the right nipple which gets Oliver to open is eyes and maybe smile. His head is still slightly bowed so John isn't entirely sure. The relevant thing is Queen isn't trying to break his hand. So John doesn't stop what he's doing. The texture of Oliver's skin changes with the raised scars on his skin, but it doesn't stutter John's progress. Though he hasn't been entrusted with these secrets, he has been entrusted with a big one. It's only fair that he offer his own. Like the vigilante is not all that Queen is, this is not all that he is, but it is important. He wants Oliver Queen to know. At the waistband of Oliver's cargo pants, he dips his finger between the material and the other man's skin. He has no intention of going any further, this is simply the period at the end of his point. He lingers just long enough to appreciate the soft tickle of the fine hairs beneath his finger, before pulling away. Stepping back. 

“Goodnight, Mr. Queen.”

“Diggle” 

Queen meets his eyes briefly, gives a quick nod before turning his full attention to the laptop behind him. John Diggle can't help but smile as he walks out of the warehouse.

**Author's Note:**

> I am surprised at how much I like Arrow. And that I like John and Oliver & John/Oliver most of all. It's so rare that I catch a pairing I want to write for at their beginning. I figured I'd do my part. And well there was that scene of them sparring, which gave me something to work with.


End file.
